What About Now
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: She was once one of the Special Response Team Leaders. Now, she's broken, in the servos of the Decepticons, and wondering if she'll ever see her team, and brother, again. But what happens when there's an alien planet and a transmission from Optimus Prime to consider? M for language, ROTF, DOTM.
1. Chapter 1

She was so slagged.

Glancing over her shoulder, the femme fired off another round at the Decepticon. The mech seemed dead set on hunting her down and offlining her himself, no signs of a team in sight.

Growling, she leapt over debris, dodging the stray shots that were being returned, wondering where the Pit her backup had disappeared to. Most of her communications links were down: jammed up by something or other that was entirely the fault of the thrice slagged Decepticons.

Another shot connected with a wing, and she stifled an instinctive screech of pain as she stumbled. However, she still had enough of a lead on the slagger of a Decepticon that she could recover the ground lost with little difficulty, though she knew that her concentration would be thrown from this point on. All of the delicate nerve endings in her wings meant that she was left vulnerable to any attack that was specifically meant to harm her, and obviously this slagger wasn't one of the newer recruits who still had doubts about taking down a door-winger by taking out said door-wings.

Double slag.

The situation was really beginning to look like she could get in a lot of trouble if her backup didn't show up soon. She going to be cornered if she kept this up, but Pit be fragged if she was about to let the Decepticon catch her. She knew exactly what would happen to her if she did. She could see the evidence littered around the abandoned city, in the optics of the mechs that had struck down her Creators, her friends.

Although she was smaller than most of the mechs in the Autobot faction, she was still unusually large for a femme, and definitely bulkier in build. She was a warrior femme, and it was something that she knew would never change.

Venting deeply, considering the speeds she was travelling at, she allowed herself to go into a calculating state. It wasnj't as if she didn't have a battle processing part of her processor- actually, it was quite the opposite. She had something similar to what could be defined as a 'secondary state' of her battle processor. Most mechs and femmes alike knew that nothing good ever came from her going into the contemplative state. The look that went across her faceplates always spelled out chaos and destruction- all with a smug smirk.

Taking in as much data as she could from her limited scans, she could tell that there were no other Cybertronian signatures within miles of their location. It was odd, considering that she could have sworn that they had just been in civilization. Though the civilization that she knew now was that of war and pain. There was likely no assistance coming because her signature was too far away for any of her allies to pick up, leading her to believe that her opponent wasn't all brawn. He obvioulsy knew how to plan out an efficient attack, and she was his target. But she was fairly certain that this mech didn't know who she was. Her reputation had by now spread pretty far across Cybertron, and the markings on her armor usually alerted any Cybertronia who she was.

**:: Autobot Blacklight requesting backup to these coordinates. Emergency Response Team Delta- what is your location? :: **she opened her comm. link, hoping that she was far enough away from whatever was jamming up her communications so that her team would be able to recieve her transmission and actually be able to _respond_.

There was silence, followed by static. She had to still be within the radius of the Pit spawned device. Hopefully, she would be hearing back from her team. Meaning that soon, her team would hopefully be able to pinpoint a location and get this 'Con off her aft.

**:: -Light, can you hear me? ::**

**:: You have no idea how happy I am to hear your obnoxious voice, Rig. ::**

**:: You wound me Light, you really do! ::**

**:: Speaking of wounded...HURRY UP AND COME GET THIS SLAGGING PIECE OF GLITCHING DECEPTICON OFF MY AFT BEFORE I LOSE SAID AFT! ::**

**:: Already on it, lovely Light of my spark. Expect to see Blurr rescue you any time now. ::**

Before Blacklight could retort, the familiar light blue armor of the mech she was hoping to see barreled into the Decepticon that had been chasing her with cannons armed, taking them both through an abandoned building with ease. There were sounds of a scuffle for several moments before silence fell.

Blacklight slowed before turning back, her faceplates raised in a questioning glance.

Skating back to the rather large hole in the wall, she watched as Blurr woozily pulled himself to his pedes, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise unharmed.

"Y'know, when you make a hole, you _really _make a hole. However, might I suggest you use your cannons first next time?" she suggested with a hint of a smile, going to cross her arms before hissing.

"Awwww, where's the fun in that, Light? I mean, think about it- even though the cannons could possibly maybe work it wouldn't mean that it would work _necessarily. _Right?"

"I hope you realize that I wasn't even listening to you just then, Blurr." she grunted out, suddenly alerted to the pain that was jolting through her frame. "I'm a little distracted right now."

**:: Hey, Light. How're you doing on your end? :: **another, definitely more calm tone asked over the comm. link. **:: Hit any troubles? ::**

**:: Nice to hear from you too, Padlock. I'll have you know that I'm still in one piece, albeit in pain. Thanks for asking. :: **Blacklight snorted. **:: My wing hurts like slag. ::**

**:: Let me guess- you managed to let him get you. ::**

**:: I didn't let him do anything and you know it! :: **she protested hotly, huffing in annoyance. **:: It's like somebot painted a target on them or something. :: **

**:: For all you know, there very well could have been somebot who did. :: **the mech pointed out with vague amusement. **:: You do tend to be a little vague in the processing department. ::**

**:: You know what? Slag you. How are we even related? ::**

**:: Well, when a mech and a femme love each other very much... ::**

**:: I know HOW it works, you dumbaft. Stop trying to get one up on me. ::**

**:: As if it's all that difficult. :: **he replied dryly.

**:: I hate you with all my spark. ::**

**:: Love you too. Just remember that I'm the one who's going to be fixing you up. ::**

"...Light, are you even listening to me?" Blurr waved his servo in front of the femme's optics quickly, making it that much harder to prove that she had actually heard him talking at his supersonic speeds. Her optics couldn't move quite that fast, and Blurr was definitely living up to his name as a fast paced mech.

"Not really, Blurr." she admitted. "My wing is throbbing, and the annoying mech I call my sibling is't helping."

"Oh." Blurr shuttered his optics for a moment.

Blacklight vented heavily before opening an arm for the smaller 'bot to sneak under, and he did so eagerly, pressing himself against her uninjured side before stilling. The femme couldn't help but feel her spark swell at the trust that Blurr put into her for him to recharge here, of all places. The poor mechling was still practically a Sparkling, far too young in her optics to be fighting in this war. But she couldn't protest against it. All of the Autobots had lost at least one mech or femme to the Decepticons, and all of them had a reason to fight.

**:: Lock, you want to hurry up? Blurr's exhausted, and I'm considering going into forced recharge to get rid of this fragging pain. ::**

**:: Hold on, Light. We're coming. :: **

Blacklight felt the gentle wave of comfort flow through their bond, and though he didn't say anything through it, she didn't need him to. It was simply enough for him to comfort her after these missions. It was her way of coping with the pain that she went through when injured. Her brother was always there for her, even though he had the issue of being an aft at times.

**:: I know. ::**

**:: Hold on. Rigger's decided he wants to try and frag around with the Medic. :: **Padlock chuckled darkly. **:: Excuse me while I correct him in his thought processes. ::**

Blacklight laughed before wincing, not even bothering to look at the wound on her wing. She could only imagine what it looked like now. Wires torn, energon spilling from their ragged ends...

She didn't want to look. She'd seen it often enough before since the war had begun. It certainly wasn't the first time a Decepticon had gone after her wings, and she was sure that it wouldn't be the last.

**:: Light, call off your psycho brother! He's trying to dissemble my wings! ::**

**:: You're on your own. I'm injured. ::**

**:: How's that even related to this? :: **Rigger protested before a static yelp came over the private link. **:: Slag it, Blacklight! I'm gonna get you for this! ::**

**:: I'd like to see you try. Padlock will make you into a new set of wrenches for Ratchet. :: **

**:: Ugh. Ratchet. :: **

Blacklight could hear the shudder in the mech's words, but she didn't really care. She was being lulled by the gentle venting and heat that was coming off of Blurr into recharge, despite her wing injury.

**:: Hey Lock...can I recharge yet? ::**

**:: Not yet, Light. Hold on a little longer. ::**

**:: Mkay.. :: **

**:: I mean it, sister. ::**

**:: Uh huh. You said that last time. :: **

**:: And I meant it! ::**

**:: Admit it, Lock. You're soft. :: **Blacklight hummed, looking up at the sky. The pain of her wing was increasing, making her wince as Blurr shifted in recharge. She didn't want to wake the Youngling. He'd done his duty for the day and now all he needed was to get a good recharge before the next war filled day began.

She tuned out her brother as he continued to rant at her, instead focusing on the Decepticon's frame. The mech had had a family, comrades, despite what the other Autobots might think. Ironhide in particular, she'd heard, was against anything that even smelled like 'Con.

**:: Hey Light...I see you. :: **

**:: Frag off, Rig. ::**

**:: That wing really hurts, doesn't it? You're not usually this glitchy. ::**

**:: Yes, my wing hurts. And yes, yes I am. It's not my fault your optics don't work right. ::**

**:: You know, I'm really considering quitting this team. ::**

**:: You know you wouldn't. I know you wouldn't. Pit, even Blurr knows you wouldn't. ::**

**:: Battle programs still up and running? ::**

**:: Yep. ::**

**:: Thought so. ::**

**:: Coming in for landing, oh mighty leader. ::**

Blacklight onlined her optics, seeing the familiar yellow and red pattern of armor on Rigger's lithe frame. Not far behind came Padlock, who transformed up into his bipedal mode.

"You make Blurr online, and I swear to Primus you will regret it." she warned, seeing the familiar look of dark glee in Rigger's optics. He waved her off with a servo vaguely, looking rather amused with the whole situation.

"Your usual threats can't work on me today, Light. You're injured. What're you gonna do, sic your brother on me?"

"Actually...that's exactly what I'm going to do." Blacklight smiled serenely. A moment later, Padlock's servo struck, leaving a dent in the side of Rigger's helm. Reeling back, Rigger went to yell something, but with a second glance to the recharging Blurr, decided against it. He was glitched, not suicidal.

Padlock paced around Blacklight before groaning. "Light, what did he do to you? Use an energon blast cannon?"

"Actually...I think he did..." Blacklight replied, letting out a low whine as Padlock prodded what seemed to be the most damaged part of her wing. Through their bond, she could feel Padlock's sudden protectiveness and his annoyance, to which she returned with a sheepish touch.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Can we go yet?" Rigger whined.

"Only if you're interested in carrying her back to base." Padlock replied neutrally.

"If it means we can get the Pit outta here, then sure."

The mech took several steps back before transforming back down into his alt-mode, some sort of giant Cybertronian carrier plane that had just enough room for the femme, and opened up the doors for Padlock to load her in.

"Blurr.." Blacklight poked at the 'bots faceplate. "We've got to get going..time to get up..."

Blurr, contrary to what Rigger and several other Autobots thought, was actually very slow when he onlined from recharge. It was one of the few times that he actually slowed down.

"Okay.." he vented, getting up before doing a couple jumps, stretching out his sore spots. After that, he was back to being his usual self.

Unfortunately for Padlock.

Blacklight didn't pity the mechs at all as she slowly made her way into Rigger's interior, shuddering as the doors closed and left her in the dark. She couldn't say that she was particularly fond of it, something that she was sure she had inherited with her door-wings. Most door-wingers in general didn't like small, dark spaces. Probably because there was partial Seeker coding in their processors, and it was activated whenever situations such as these arose.

"I hope you realize if I panic I'm going to rip you apart to do so, Rig." she warned, settling in for recharge.

"Lucky me." Rigger retorted sarcastically.


	2. Chapter 2

**:: Private Communications Link ::**

_'Sibling Bond'_

o-o-o-o

When Rigger finally landed back at the base, Blacklight nearly launched herself out of the back of the carrier, causing Rigger to snap something half-hearted behind her before transforming back up into his bipedal mode. Shuddering, Blacklight waited for Padlock to catch up, wondering if he was going to offline her pain receptors while he went to work on her wings. Actually, come to think of it, she should probably check in with her Commander to alert her to the mission status first. Then worry about her door-wings.

**:: Autobot femme Blacklight reporting in. :: **she opened a private communications line, connecting with the Femme Commander.

**:: Confirmed. Continue, Autobot Blacklight. :: -Elita-One**

**:: Mission status- Successful. Decepticon offlined. :: -Blacklight**

**:: What is your team status? :: -Elita-One**

**:: Minimal. Only injuries are my own. :: -Blacklight**

**:: And what is the extent of your injuries, Autobot Blacklight? :: -Elita-One**

**:: Damage taken to my door-wings, ma'am. :: -Blacklight**

**:: Have you found medical help? :: -Elita-One**

**:: Yes, ma'am. :: -Blacklight**

**:: Good. Come see me personally once you're repaired. :: -Elita-One**

**:: Yes ma'am. Autobot Blacklight out. :: **

As soon as she finished deconnecting with her commanding officer, Blacklight noted that her brother was pulling up, closely followed by Blurr.

"Come on, Lock. Elita wants to see me as soon as you're done repairing my wings." she offered as a greeting, turning and tapping in the simple keycode on the lock in order to open the doors.

"Femmes." she heard Rigger comment to Blurr before cringing at the glare she sent his way.

"Just because my door-wings are damaged doesn't mean my audials are." she snapped, automatically flicking her door-wings up in an irritated manner. A moment later, she hissed at the pain, earning an amused look from Rigger. "And if you make _one _more comment, Rigger, I swear to Primus I will have Prowl put you in the brig for insubordination."

"Slag. She's gone and read up on all her rights." Rigger swore, to which Blurr grinned widely.

"Sucks to be you then doesn't it Rig 'cause Light's got you backed into a corner, huh?" Blurr clicked out. The three remaining Autobots sent him looks that clearly read that they hadn't understood a word that he'd been going off about before Padlock began herding Blacklight towards his personal Med Bay.

The silence, however, was getting to the femme, and not just because the sensors on her wings were all over the place, either. She couldn't get a clear reading of what her brother was thinking.

**:: Hey Lock, are you upset with me? :: **Blacklight asked over their bond.

There was a flash of confusion. **:: Why would I be upset with you, Light? ::**

**:: Well, since I've been assigned as Elita's SIC, you've been...weird. ::**

**:: Weird...how? ::** Padlock asked, leading his sister through the halls of the base with ease.

**:: Weird as in you now have to take orders from me. :: **Blacklight replied hesitantly. **:: Would you have preferred it if I hadn't asked that you be placed on my team? ::**

Padlock vented, though he didn't pause as he lead the injured femme to a set of doors before tapping in the code. Coincidentally, Jolt, the other Medic who shared the Med Bay with him, was just leaving, but paused to give Blacklight a slightly amused look before she sent him a glare that would have sent Ironhide packing.

"I get it. I'm the fragging femme who _always _goes and gets herself hurt. But why the _frag _does everybot have to make such a _fragging _big deal out of it?" she snapped, flicking her door-wings again, wincing as the motion caused a couple of wires to spark. Ugh. She really hated it when her door-wings got damaged. It made her cranky, mostly because they had the sensitive wiring and various other delicate parts that allowed her to pick up on signals and sounds. Sort of like an amplifier.

"Light, stop trying to intimidate Jolt. It doesn't work." Padlock vented from his place by a berth. "Now hurry up and get your aft over here so I can fix you so you can go see Elita and I can go report to Ratchet."

Shuttering her optics, Blacklight vented before doing as she was told, barely twitching as Padlock started working on her wings. Sure, it hurt like Pit, but Blacklight was used to this kind of pain by now. It was the healing kind of pain, the one that told her that she was going to be fine. That she wasn't going to fall into rusty parts at the slightest touch of a servo.

Yes, she could deal with with this kind of pain.

o-o-o-o

"Blurr!" she screeched, searching the chaos for the smaller blue mech.

There were Decepticons everywhere, swarming the base and attacking anything that moved.

Blacklight snarled as a Decepticon launched itself at her torso, a blade held in one servo. As they collided, they tumbled, Blacklight pinned beneath the larger 'Con's weight. Growling, the femme shoved at the mech, able to dislodge his grip on her shoulder for a moment, and it was only a moment that she needed.

Swinging out wildly, she connected with the mech's helm, jarring him from his position and allowing her to scramble to her pedes, wheels having difficulties turning on the rubble littered ground. Where were the other Autobots? Padlock, Rigger? She couldn't reach anybot, her signals jammed. Blurr had been by her side up until a few moments ago, seperated in the madness that was occurring around them.

Any thoughts concerning the members of her team were halted as a Decepticon femme came out of nowhere, cannons charged and aimed at Blacklight's spark.

Shrieking out a battle cry, Blacklight armed herself with her wrist blades and crouched, lunging when the femme came within range. Unfortunately, it meant that she was in range as well. Pain flashed through her in bright flashes, warnings coming up behind her optics, but she ignored them, quickly launching herself into the fray.

The other femme was smaller than her, as most were, not as heavily protected by her armor as Blacklight, but she knew her weapons well. Blacklight fought viciously, her wristblades stained with energon, the other femme coated in energon as well. Blacklight didn't know whose energon it was, nor did she want to pause and figure it out at the moment.

Finally, she caught the other femme with one of her wristblades, distracting her long enough so that Blacklight could slip one of her blades into the delicate workings of her chest, savagely twisting and sending her offline immediately.

Then she turned her attentions on the mechs around her. Her cannon onlined, and the femme's optics gleamed as she threw herself into the gore with something akin to joy.

o-o-o-o

There was pain everywhere in her frame.

Blacklight had been battling for what seemed to be forever, though she knew that it couldn't have possibly been that long. It simply felt so due to the fact that there was an endless supply of Decepticons that continued to flood the battlefield.

She turned, seeking out the flash of pink that had signalled her commander, but couldn't seem to hone in on the exact area that she had last seen Elita in. Something that was seriously fragging her off at the moment, despite being in the midst of a rather large brawl with a mech she vaguely recognized from somewhere. It wasn't important though: nothing was more important than assuring that Elita-One was safe from the Decepticons. Especially knowing that there were no other femmes able to take the positions of SIC and Commanding Officer should either or the both of them fall to the enemy.

"Will. You. Frag. _Off_. Already!" she screeched, making her point clear as she powered her fisted servo into his frame with each snarled word. With a keen, his engines revved momentarily, trying to vent, but were unable to due to the extensive damages that he had sustained. With a groan, he fell, leaving Blacklight to seek out her new target.

She could see, in the distance, the newly recruited Autobot trine. The three mechs darted about in the sky, leading several other mechs that appeared to include Starscream and his own trine around in a game of cybercat and glitchmouse. Judging by the looks of things, the frontliner twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, were also going after the Seekers.

Momentarily distracted by the sight, Blacklight was taken off guard as a heavy blow connected with her helm, sending her flying into another mech. Said mech turned before grabbing her harshly, his sharper claws sinking deeply into the sensitive wires of her wings. Keening, she wrenched herself away from him, only to find that she was unable to.

She was well and completely slagged.

o-o-o-o

"Lord Megatron, this femme is the Autobot femme, Blacklight." one of the Decepticons holding her stated nervously, bowing his head out of respect. Blacklight felt her lip-plates curl in disgust at the amount of simpering that these mechs were displaying. "The same, if I recall correctly, with the reputation that rivals the Weapons Specialist."

The mech before her wasn't all that much to look at. He was the same as any other mech, other than the fact that he was out to offline anybot that stood in his way. His armor was a bronze and silver combination, one that most mechs had these days, but his optics gleamed a dark crimson.

"This is the Femme Second in Command?"

His voice was low, more a growl than anything else, but Blacklight didn't particularly care. She was in deep slag. She'd been captured for a reason, and whatever that reason was, it wasn't good. She couldn't get into contact with any of her team, and that meant that she couldn't report in to her commanding officer either.

"Yes, Lord Megatron."

Megatron studied her for several more moments before pulling himself to his pedes and approaching, his bulk moving near silently in the hall. Blacklight hissed as her mangled door-wings were grabbed by the Decepticons holding her again, so as to make sure that she wouldn't attempt another escape. Megatron circled her, optics calculating as he sized her up, no doubt admiring the amount of defiance that she still held despite the fact that she was losing energon quickly from her wounds. Pausing in front of her, the mech stared her directly in the optic, as if daring her to say something against him.

She didn't. But that didn't mean that she was going to give up so easily. Oh, no. As long as she had two pedes and a beating spark, by Pit she was going to get the slag out of this base and back to her team. To her brother.

"Take her to the brig. I will send somebot to deal with her later."

It was a clear dismissal, and the mechs around her knew it. With more bows, they then proceeded to heave her out of the hall, keeping tight grips on her door-wings with their clawed servos. Wasn't exactly the most comfortable position, considering that one door-wing was practically disconnected completely, the other peppered with energon cannon debris. Her internal stats weren't exactly popping up with positive news either. She was severely damaged and needed medical attention, but what with all of the Decepticons capturing her, she knew that that wasn't about to happen anytime soon, if at all.

Blacklight suddenly wished that she had Jazz or Mirage next to her at that moment. If not for the company, than for the rescue she knew she needed right about now.

Her engine keened slightly as she was finally hauled into what was clearly an interrogation room, balking at the heavy chains attached to the walls. If there was one thing that she knew, it was that the Decepticons certainly didn't plan for any prisoner of war to be comfortable during their stay.

She had a vague idea of what was to no doubt come, considering that she had been witness to Jazz's effective interrogation techniques several times in order to fully understand what would be expected of her should she ever need to interrogate a prisoner.

She just never really thought that she would be the one to be captured, in the end.

"Enjoy your stay, Autoscum." one of the mechs sneered at her before finishing attaching the heavy chains to her wrists. "I'm sure that one of our Medics will be along shortly to...relieve you of your weapons."

Blacklight barely managed to keep from flinching away from the other mech, who leaned in close to her faceplates for a moment before scoffing. "She's not worth the trouble. Slagging Autoscum. You'll get yours soon enough."

Blacklight found she just didn't have the energy to retort anything any longer. Her systems were demanding recharge and energon, among other things, and she was ready to just go into stasis if it meant temporary relief from the pain her door-wings were in.

_'Blacklight?'_

_'Lock?' _

She thought she would offline from relief alone at hearing her brother's concerned tone over their bond.

_'Thank Primus! We thought you were offline!'_

_'I'm thinking I'm going to be wishing I was...' _she whimpered.

_'What's wrong? Where are you?'_

_'I've been captured by the Decepticons. Namely Megatron.'_

_'Frag!'_

Those were her thoughts exactly.

_'Lock, don't come looking for me. I don't know where I am, but I do know that I'm going to be interrogated. Soon. I don't know if I'll-' _she paused, not needing to say the rest of the words.

_I don't know if I'll remain online. _

_'We'll find you, Light. Elita and Optimus are already planning something.'_

_'Lock, I'm sorry.'_

Blacklight winced, knowing what she was about to do was going to hurt the both of them but also realizing that it was for the best. She couldn't allow the Decepticons to find out that she had any sibling bonds. They would hunt Padlock down and offline him simply to watch what her reaction would be, or vice versa. And she refused to allow that to happen. She was a prisoner, yes. She didn't necessarily accept that fact, but it was true. And she was going to be in pain. That, she also knew.

As quickly as she possibly could, Blacklight completely blocked their bond, or at least to the best of her ability.

The emptiness was resolute, immediate, and she winced at the phantom pain that she could still faintly feel from Padlock. Blacklight refused to allow her sudden guilt get to her, knowing that it would only cause twice as much pain for the both of them.

Now all she could do was wait for the unavoidable torture.


	3. Chapter 3

**Vorn:** Equivalent to 83 Earth years

**Orn:** One Cybertronian day, approx. 13 Earth days

**:: Private Communication Link ::**

_'Sibling Bond'_

o-o-o-o

_Orns later..._

She resisted the urge to scream as Barricade dug his claws into her chassis for what seemed to be the thousandth time, his features arranged in that careful, neutral expression that he always seemed to get whenever he was ordered to come and interrogate her.

Blacklight couldn't count the orns that she had been here, chained to this slagged wall, unable to feel anything from her brother. Some twisted little medic by the name of Scalpel had been the reason behind that one. Tearing apart her helm, crawling in, ripping apart wires before crawling all over her frame like a glitch-mouse.

Her vocalizer had nearly given out on her several times in the last orn. Whatever information Megatron was desiring had to be important, if it meant nearly offlining her in the process. And she didn't even want to get started on how her systems had been tampered with by that psychotic slagger Soundwave. He'd been doing something to her processor while she had been in stasis, if her firewalls had anything to say about it. Now as to what was a whole other set of questions that she honestly didn't have the time or thought capabilities of doing while she was at the mercy of the Decepticons.

"I will ask once again, Autoscum. Where is your Prime? Where is your Commander?"

"Like Pit I'm going to tell you, slagger." Blacklight hissed back, feeling her vocalizer spark at the effort and force behind it. "Now why don't you go crawling back to Megatron like the good little femme-bot you are."

Barricade growled, the sound menacing, before his claws struck again, piercing the delicate armor plates around her vocalizer.

She felt another scream beginning to build up, but she couldn't vent enough to do so. With a savage surge, she lunged further forward, helmbutting Barricade and effectively getting his nasty claws away from her armor for the moment.

"Fragging femme. I don't know why you're even still online."

"I call it sheer determination. You should try it sometime." she snapped back, wincing at the sparking she could feel from her vocalizer. "Oh wait. I forgot. You're not the Autobot prisoner of war. My bad."

Barricade snarled, but didn't move from his defensive position. Blacklight internally checked all of her systems, ready to burst into tears at any moment. She knew there were risks having a position so high up in the metaphorical foodchain, but it hadn't quite sunken in until this point. She was a prisoner of war, most likely only around because of the information that she held carefully in her processor, barricaded behind firewalls that she wasn't sure even she herself could break through if she wanted to. Thanks to Ratchet, the main CMO, all of the higher ranked officers had such safety precautions set in place almost immediately after recieving their position. That way, it was nearly impossible to get any information from them if they were to be captured.

Like she had.

Being a femme wasn't exactly going to play out in her favor, either. Just because she was a femme didn't mean she was malfunctioned. She'd seen the innocents slaughtered in the streets of their homes, femmes, younglings and mechs alike. At this rate, Cybertronians would run into a dead-end in terms of repopulation. Fragging Decepticons. She was really hoping that Padlock would hunt them all down when he found out what they were doing to his little sister. There would be nothing sweeter than to watch her brother protecting her and getting revenge on the mechs who were doing this to her at the same time.

But for the moment, she was dealing with all of her slagging alerts. She didn't know why she hadn't offlined them yet.

**Energon reserves: 23%**

**Left shoulder strut: damagaed. Seek immediate medical assistance.**

**Right shoulder strut: damaged. Seek immediate medical assistance. **

**Left shin strut: damaged. Seek immediate medical assistance. **

**Left chassis plate: damaged. Seek immediate medical assistance. **

**Offline pain receptors? **

**Recharge required. Override forced recharge?**

**Override confirmed. **

Blacklight vented heavily as the override took over, ensuring that she would stay online a little longer. At this point, it would only result in several extremely unpleasant things happening to her frame that she would rather not have happen. One of which including being sparked.

Although she was at the general age where femmes usually went out to find themselves a bondmate, Blacklight had had the programming for her Creator urges disabled while she was in service. It helped ensure that she didn't go running off after some random Cybertronian, but it didn't exactly help her in this situation. She could only be thankful for the fact that she wasn't an older model of femme, one that was able to be sparked from the simple act of bonding. And that was something that she really didn't want to happen.

Not only would it mean that she would be sparked in the middle of a fragging war, but it meant that as soon as the Sparkling made its way into the world it would be thrust into the position of Decepticon, without any chance to create a bond with her. It would be severed, broken, and it would most likely offline her in the process. Unless she could manage to offline her Creator programming so that if something along those lines were to happen, it would lessen the pain.

This was the sacrifice she had made in favor of becoming an Autobot. And she would accept her fate because of her choice. It didn't mean she had to like it, though.

Venting slowly, she slumped in her bonds, already feeling the sharp pains from having a broken bond with her brother kicking in now that she wasn't being tortured.

_'Padlock, what do I do?' _she threw out over the empty space, knowing it would never reach the mech but hoping nonetheless.

o-o-o-o

The mech in question was currently being restrained by both Rigger and Blurr, snarled curses coming from his vocalizer as he tried to convince Prowl to let them go back out to search for Blacklight.

"Probabilities of Femme Second in Command Blacklight to still be functioning are less than 12%. Your request is denied, Autobot Padlock."

"She's my sister!" he roared. "I'm not about to just _leave her!" _

Prowl barely flinched at the loud retort, and his faceplates remained neutral as the Autobot SIC crossed his arms behind his back.

"As I am fully aware of. However, there is no use in attempting to search for a femme who we don't even know is still online or not." Prowl replied coolly, shuttering his optics for several long moments.

Rigger's servos tightened against Padlock's shoulder plate before relaxing, and Blurr hesitantly let go as well as Padlock simply deflated.

"Understood, _sir_." he murmured, bowing his helm before whirling and stalking off several steps before transforming down into his alt-mode and taking off down the hall.

Rigger paused, torn between his now in command leader and the SIC, distress clear in his optics.

"Autobot Rigger."

Rigger snapped to attention, his red and yellow patterned arm coming up as he saluted automatically. "Yes sir?"

"We all realize that Femme Second in Command Blacklight was a large part of the Autobot forces, and she will be mourned. But this is a war. Casualties are to be expected." the black and white mech stated softly. "And as much as I am certain that many would be willing to search for her, we cannot risk losing more Autobots to this war than necessary."

Blurr, suspiciously silent for most of the original argument, finally spoke up.

"If there was even the slightest possibility that she was online and we were able to reach her, sir?"

"Then perhaps we will be able to calculate higher possibilities." Prowl vented heavily before nodding to both mechs and turning into the room that they had cornered him outside of.

It wasn't much, but it was something. Both mechs transformed before heading in the direction that Padlock had raced off in, hoping they could stop the medic before he did something even more stupid than usual.

Usually, Padlock was the most mature of their team, but with the sudden loss of the sibling bond he'd had with Blacklight, he'd gone into a rage. It had been terrifying for poor Blurr to go through, considering that he was still a Youngling and was still a recent addition to the team. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had to pin down the medic so Ratchet could sedate him, and since waking up, was determined to find Blacklight. No one was really sure what had happened within the span of an orn in stasis from being sedated, but when he'd onlined, it was like he was a mech possessed.

That was was concerned Rigger. He'd never seen Padlock get this worked up over Blacklight before. Then again, he'd never had a sibling bond with anybot, so there wasn't exactly a lot that he could say on the matter. From what he'd heard, however, bonds were something that should never be trifled with. The 'bots they were applied to could get aggressive, grief stricken, and pretty much everything else under the stars, but this was new ground for everybot.

But what were they going to do about it?

o-o-o-o

"Come along, femme." some new Decepticon growled to her, jostling her out of the light recharge that she had slipped into. "Lord Megatron wishes to...speak with you."

Blacklight snorted, though it came out more of a cough than anything else. She'd calculated the chances of Megatron actually 'speaking' with her and the chances of himself forcing himself on her in order to attempt to break her processor. Something, at this point, had a 76% probability of occurring.

"We both know that isn't what Megatron wants." she whispered, feeling her spark clench at the future possibilities that she could see playing out in front of her. All of them ended with her offlining and her creation being raised by Megatron to become the next Decepticon Commander.

The Decepticon paused, looking at her with something like surprise shining in his crimson optics. A moment later, he returned his growl, shoving her back along the hall, causing her to stumble on her damaged shin strut. Slag it, it hurt more than when she and Padlock had been Sparklings and she'd broken her shoulder casing. She'd wailed for an orn it was so painful, but Padlock had been by her side the entire time.

But this...this was something that she had never done before. She was an unmated femme with no possible escape from the Decepticon base, and not only that, but she knew that she was something of an attractive Cybertronian. Blacklight just didn't have any reason to really care, considering her current position. Sure, Elita was one to shine her servos after every other skirmish, but that was about as far as she would go in terms of keeping herself 'pretty'. In Blacklight's opinion, the femme was fine just the way she was. The rugged warrioress aura that she kept about her seemed far more appealing than the prim and pretty femme thing. Really. Everytime Blacklight was forced to mingle among the primping femmes, she was always struck with the urge to purge her tanks.

She was broken from her half delirious thinking as doors swung open, and she quickly found herself thrown to the hard metal floor with a whine of pain.

Wearily, she tried to pull herself to her pedes, only to be kicked in the side by a heavy clawed pede, sending her skittering across the ground and into a wall. Stifling her high pitched keens from being released, she bit down on her glossa, hard.

"She is strong. Stronger than the others." she heard Megatron rumble before recieving a hum of some kind in return. There was a moment of silence, and then there was the sounds of retreat from another mech.

And then she was left alone as Megatron advanced.


	4. Chapter 4

**Vorn: **Equivalent to 83 Earth years

**Orn: **One Cybertronian day, approx. 13 Earth days

**:: Private Comminication Link ::**

_'Sibling Bond'_

o-o-o-o

_Several orns later_

She felt like scrap.

Megatron was not gentle in any way, shape or form, despite what his empty promises may have sounded like as he all but spark-bonded with her. By the time she had been dragged back down to her cell, she had been nearly offline. Her data-port in her forearm was completely slagged from the tight grip he had used on it so that she couldn't try to wriggle out from his cruel embrace, and that didn't even begin to describe the aftermath that she had been feeling. Her door-wings were even more fragged up than they ever had been before.

Now she knew what the other femmes from the streets had meant when they all had been through interfacing. It was highly unpleasant and was not by any means something that she wanted to go through again. Putting it mildly, anyway. Blacklight really didn't want to think about what else that they had told her about interfacing. All of the femmes stories were equally gruesome, all of them coming from their own personal version of the Pit.

Pit, when had she become such a whining youngling? She was the Femme Second in Command. She had been trained for situations such as these for as long as she could remember. This was nothing in comparison to some of the things that Jazz had put her through during interrogation training.

But there was still the fact that Megatron had interfaced with her without her consent. And there was currently a feeling of some kind that something very bad was going to happen to her because of it.

The sound of the cell doors sliding open gained her attention, and a moment later, she shied away as Frenzy skittered in, closely followed by another mech she didn't recognize. He actually looked to be about her own age. Blacklight felt her optics narrow as she felt Frenzy clambering up her armor, barely giving a care in the slagging world about the discomfort that he was causing.

"Back again? Didn't know you cared." she snarked.

The unknown mech, a shade of red not unlike Rigger's, smirked at her comment before going back to a neutral look when Frenzy shot him a dirty glare.

"You femme, Lord Megatron has chosen." he warbled off in an odd accent, tapping her chassis with a claw as he tilted his helm to one side. "Spark you. Many Sparklings to create for Lord Megatron's army."

"Like Pit!" she snarled, though the sinking in her tanks suggested that this was the bad feeling that she had been thinking about not all that long ago. "Go make your own fragging Sparklings! I'm not helping you!"

"No choice, femme will create the Sparklings for my Lord." Frenzy muttered, continuing to tap away at her chassis. "Knockout, bring synchro-tech."

The newly dubbed 'Knockout' looked less than pleased to be told what to do, but did as he was told.

"What the Pit is a synchro-tech?" Blacklight hissed as the odd looking piece of technology was carefully brought over to Frenzy.

"You find out, femme." Frenzy cackled. "Soon, soon, you find out."

o-o-o-o

Rigger's long, slender wings brought his sleek red and yellow frame high above the world that he called home. His processor was in a whirl, though it was one of calculation and contemplation rather than one of panic. But yes, he had been in a panic previously.

Blacklight hadn't been heard from in a servo-full of orns, and at this point, the only mechs who were still trying to get her back were Padlock, Blurr, and himself. In terms of the femmes, Elita-One hadn't given up on her Second in Command, but knew that in order to keep anybot else from trying to figure out what was going on in her ranks, she had to appoint another Second in Command. So now, Chromia was Elita's Second in Command. Something that made a great number of Autobots shudder. With Chromia appointed that high a rank, there was going to be Pit to pay for one pede out of line.

Rigger knew all of this. He may not have been given much regard in terms of processing, but in reality, the designated scout was actually far more intelligent than most gave him credit for. After all, he had learned from the best. Jazz was one mech that no one quite knew what to make of. Though his tones were always light and friendly, his posture and always present visor gave everybot the clear signal that he was not one to mess with. Something that he had repeatedly and mistakenly done in the beginning stages of his unofficial training.

And it was well applied now. Though he constantly teased and harrassed Blacklight, his spark was in the right place, and he was the one mech of their team that everyone thought to be the dead spark-plug, to put it mildly. The cocky and reckless fragger who was only around to court his Commander.

How wrong they all were.

**:: Hey Rig, where you at? :: -Sideswipe**

**:: Nice to hear from you too, Sides. What do you need? :: **Rigger drawled back over the comm-link. Sideswipe was one of the only other mechs that he could trust enough now. Since Blacklight's capture, he had retreated to a core group of Autobots that he considered to be his allies, Prime automatically included because he was Prime.

**:: The usual. Sunny's being ridiculous again about his painting. :: -Sideswipe**

**:: I'll see what I can do... :: -Rigger**

**:: Should have guessed you were out flying. Sorry about that. :: -Sideswipe**

**:: Nah. I shouldn't be out here so long. It doesn't do me much good anyway. :: -Rigger**

**:: Meet by the main gates? :: -Sideswipe**

**:: I can do that. Rigger out. :: **

Turning, the Cybertronian jet began the not too difficult flight back towards base.

o-o-o-o

"Synchro-tech success! Femme model synchronized with old model tech!" Frenzy chittered away as he buffed Blacklight's armor. Said femme fuzzily onlined her optics, wondering what the Pit had run her down when she wasn't looking. Decepticons not included. "Femme make many Sparklings!"

"Like Pit." she snapped back, not entirely sure what was going on yet at this point. The last thing that she could remember was Frenzy advancing on her with one of his nasty little claws going for one of her energon lines like some creepy little parasite.

In the background, the form of Knockout watched carefully, red optics neutral as they studied her. Blacklight internally snarled. She hated it when mechs did things like that. It made her feel like some kind of pet, something that was carefully tied just out of reach so you knew that it couldn't get to you but still being able to study it closely. Pit, she wanted to shudder.

"No choice, femme. Lord Megatron arrive next orn, yes. You make many Sparklings for Lord!"

Primus, why was it her that always seemed to get into these kinds of problems? "Like I said. Like Pit." she snarled, lunging forward against the chains.

"Like I say like Pit." Frenzy mimicked tauntingly. "No choice, femme. Realize no choice and accept."

Blacklight didn't know how badly she wanted to squish this cassette until now. Grinding her denta, the dark femme leaned her helm back and waited for the little slagger to come just a little closer..

Before slamming her helm into the psychotic cassette's own helm, sending him flying off of her chestplates with a satisfying _crack. _

Frenzy lay motionless on the floor of the cell for several moments before onlining his optics and glaring up at her with all the dignity he had left. Which actually wasn't all that much, considering that Knockout was stifling his laughter behind a servo. She grinned, knowing exactly how savage she appeared to the much smaller mech, before rolling her shoulders.

"Like Pit." she repeated.

**-;-**

"Padloooocckk! Oh Paaadddlooooccckk!"

The Med Bay appeared deserted, but Rigger knew much better than that. There were a great many hiding places in this Med Bay, and any one of them could be holding the mech that he was currently searching for.

Jolt emerged from his office, barely glancing up at the red and yellow mech before pointing up.

Rigger snickered to himself, ignoring the staircase that led up to Padlock's office, and jetted up himself. After all, he did have wings. What was the point of having them if he was never going to use them?

"Good orn to you, my wonderful Medic!" Rigger greeted cheerfully. "It's time to go out and about on a wondrous mission!"

The dark green mech gave him a dry look, pausing in glancing over his data-pad, before shaking his helm with a snort. "I'm busy."

"Come on, Lock! You'll turn into Ratchet if you keep this up! Where's your sense of adventure?" Rigger continued with a bright grin. He knew all of the right points to press to get Padlock to give in, and being friendly and cheerful was generally the usual way to do it.

"I'm plenty adventurous. When my orn doesn't begin with you barging into my office and trying to convince me to go out on some half-fragged mission that you come up with on the spot." the Medic vented in return.

"Come on...and besides, it's an actual mission this time!" Rigger pouted, moving to slouch against the edge of the desk. "Prime wants us to go out and see how bad the damages are in Praxus."

An optic ridge raised. "Shouldn't Prowl or Ratchet be the ones to go on this mission?"

Rigger shrugged. "Well, we're lacking in the Autobot department. So, we're the next best thing. Blurr's already out with Chromia."

"Fine." Padlock grumbled, offlining the data-pad and standing. "Let's get going."

**-;-**

Pain. Everywhere, there was pain. It sunk deep into her frame, in between the cracks of her armor until she could barely stand it. She felt like somebot had decided to throw her into a pit of acid that she couldn't climb out of and left her there.

She thought her audials picked up Padlock's voice at one point, too. But that was impossible. She knew that when her optics finally onlined, she would be back in the cell that she had come to know as her home, with Frenzy tinkering around with her frame and babbling on about Sparklings. Knockout would just be in the background, as he always was, giving her that critical look, as though she were an interesting creature to be studied. And she would be alone, as she always was, struggling to stay ahead of the insanity that dared to creep up on her.

The memories hurt too. Remembering each cruel jab of a claw from Megatron as he pinned her to his berth, and of the pain that followed as he clenched his servos over her forearm struts. She would never forget that pain. At this point, she was sure that it would be a miracle if her data-port was even functional after that.

But the most pain came from her spark. Megatron had tried to force a sparkbond with her, and the force that she had used to fend him off astounded even herself. But the pain that was following was most definitely something she would have to consider if it were to happen again.

She decided to online her optics. Wallowing in her thoughts was not going to get her far, and besides, she really didn't want to be snuck up on by Knockout or Frenzy. Both of them gave her the creeps.

Blacklight shuttered her optics several times at her surroundings. This was most certainly not the cell that she had become used to seeing when she onlined. This was a Med Bay, if the clean atmosphere was anything to go by.

She decided she didn't like it.

One.

Bit.


End file.
